Jammin'

This week I took some of these

and made a batch of this

and it's delicious.

Peaches and Cream

It's Been Nice Knowin' Ya

I often sing the last line of this primary song, "So I say to myself, Remember this: Kindness begins with me." It's one of the ways I remind the boys (mostly Cooper these days) to be kind to each other.

This evening I was driving back from soccer with all three kids. I had just sung my line about kindness when I said, "When you guys are grown-ups and you hear that song, I hope you'll think of me. And I hope it's a fond memory."

That prompted the following conversation:

Peter: Yeah, and I'll go to your funeral.

Me: What?!

Peter: I'll go to your funeral Mom.

Me: Well, let's hope that's not for a while.

Peter: Cooper, do you want to go to Mommy's funeral with me?

Cooper: (long pause while he thinks about it) Yes. And I'll drive.

Peter: No, I'll drive you and Phoebe. Phoebe, do you want to go with us to Mommy's funeral? She's smiling, so I think that means yes.

Well, I'm glad we have that out of the way.

Aphasia

My brain feels full. So full of words and thoughts and epiphanies. And they're stuck. I start to express myself and feel muddled, like I can't quite grab hold of the words I want to say.

It's frustrating.

It's frightening.

I hope that it's temporary, a side-effect of the early-morning, late-night schedule I've been keeping. Or maybe it's the result of me trying to answer the hundreds of questions I'm asked each day by the two little boys that live at my house. Whatever the cause, I feel somewhat trapped in my own head.

Tonight, instead of doing the dishes or mopping the floor or planning my lesson for Joy School, I read a book. I feel like that act has unclogged my brain a bit, enough to write this post at least.

Maybe I need to read more and clean less.

Yes, That's True

"It's a lot easier to talk when you don't have your tongue out."

-Peter

Number One

We have a one-year-old at our house.

The birthday girl, slightly groggy after her birthday nap.

I wanted to decorate for the big day but didn't have any "girl" decorations. I reached into my limited knowledge of crafts and made some tissue-paper pom-poms. She seemed to know that the large pink orb hanging above the table was for her.

We had a fancy birthday breakfast of purple pancakes. The boys sang Happy Birthday to her multiple times during the meal. She loved it.

Her birthday fell on a particularly busy day, so we celebrated away from home.

We packed a picnic, grabbed her birthday presents, and drove down to have dinner with Bryan on campus. For her gifts I opened my box of twelve-month sized clothes and pulled out everything that still had a tag. She likes clothes. We also bagged up all of the Fisher-Price Little People animals we had in the boys' room and gave them to her.

A few months ago Cooper and I were shopping when he saw a little cloth doll. He said he wanted to get it for Phoebe. Since it was only a few dollars I bought it and tucked it away for her birthday. It's her new favorite thing.

At one, Phoebe loves her dolls, her brothers, giving hugs and kisses, books, walking, coloring, bananas, black beans, and pizza. (Yes, pizza.) She hates having her diaper changed, being held when she might be exploring, being told no, and her bed. She's my earliest talker, earliest walker, and latest teether. She is both sweetly affectionate and fiercely strong-willed. She laughs easily and often.

We love her.

Balancing Act

She walks!

Bird is the Word

I was up until three in the morning working on the chicken. I'm still putting the kitchen back together, but at least the food is in the freezer, this time fully cooked and divided into half pound servings. I shredded some, cubed some, and left the rest in large chunks.

The cooked and divided chicken.

Hard to believe this project took more than fourteen hours, eh?

Is That a Chicken in There With You?

A few months ago I tried to save us some money and bought chicken for $1.49/lb. The catch was that I had to buy forty pounds to get that price. I figured I would just go home and bag it into easy-to-cook portions.

Except that when I got home I had to take care of other things, so I plopped the whole forty-pounds of chicken into the freezer downstairs, fully intending to come back to it later that day.

I didn't.

This afternoon I wanted something out of the freezer, something that was underneath the giant block of chicken-ice. I tried to heave the bag (now frozen solid and seemingly heavier than forty-pounds) out of the way.

That's when the plastic tore.

I stuck my hand in the bag to assess the damage. Maybe there were smaller bags dividing the chicken which would mean I could just drop the whole thing back in the freezer and be on my merry way.

But I felt very cold, very raw chicken.

I was able to separate ten pounds of it, re-bag it, and stick it back in the freezer. But the other thirty pounds were so stuck together that I had to thaw the whole mess to get it to fit into any of my available freezer safe containers. And once you thaw meat, it's generally a good idea to cook it.

And that is why I've been thawing/trimming/cooking/chopping/bagging/freezing-the-now-cooked chicken since one o'clock this afternoon.

I'm very tired.

And when it's done (I still have some in the oven and on the stove and in both the crock pots) I will have a load of cooked chicken.

Hungry?

Doctor Mom

Peter is sitting next to me on the couch, experiencing his first sick day since starting Kindergarten. Most of us had colds over the weekend (Cooper has escaped the bug so far). Peter was running a fever for most of the morning, so I decided it was best to keep him home. This means I reported my first school absence this morning, which made me feel very grown-up.

I'm glad he's home. I'm not happy he's sick, but it's nice to have him here.

Let's hope I feel the same way at the end of the day.

The Sound of Silence

Peter has had two good days in a row. And not just at home. He hasn't gotten in trouble at school either. Two days may not sound like much, but it's quite the victory for Peter.

He even got a special stamp for "listening" along with the other kids at his table.

We may get the hang of this school business yet.

Curiosity

We went to the park again today. I think I'm trying to gather in as much sunshine as possible before winter descends upon us. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could preserve summertime like we preserve fruit, tucking it into the pantry for a particularly dreary day?

Phoebe had such fun playing in the grass on Tuesday that I plopped her onto the earth again today. She pulled herself up to stand using the leg of my pants and walked circles around me. Occasionally she would drop to her hands and knees and crawl off in search of a nice crunchy wood chip. I'm almost certain I caught them all before they went into her mouth.

I was chatting with a friend (her kids were having a grand time playing with the boys) when her face grew serious. She was looking at Phoebe. In a calm but urgent tone she said, "She's got- she's got-" She didn't finish the sentence. I looked down thinking that maybe Phoebe had moved from wood chips to weeds. I was wrong. Struggling between her curious fingers was something squirming to get out.

A wasp.

I was already bending down to pick her up when my brain registered the black and yellow segmented body. I took hold of her arm while my friend, who had stopped talking and started moving when she saw what Phoebe had, gently pulled Phoebe's fingers away. The wasp remained on the ground, struggling to recover from being examined by a baby while Phoebe started to cry.

I quickly checked her hands, her face, her arms for evidence of a bite. Nothing. Then I realized she wasn't fussing because she was hurt. She was mad because we had taken her toy and she wanted it back.

Phoebe is my animal lover. She is completely unafraid of dogs and cats, which is very unlike her brothers. I had no idea that her love of critters extended to the insect world.

I'm still shocked that she wasn't stung. Shocked and exceedingly grateful.

She stayed, much to her annoyance, in my arms for the remainder of our stay at the park.

Afternoon Sunshine

 We played at the park yesterday after school. For a moment the kids were all sitting calmly together and I thought, " Quick! Get the camera!" But apparently I'm not fast enough, because these are the best shots I got with all three of them.

Can you tell that the boys think Phoebe should roughhouse just like they do?

Best

I had a lot to do tonight. I've had a lot to do ever since we started this adventure called school. Bryan spends most of his time studying and I've picked up the slack at home. My list of things to accomplish called to me as I got the kids into their pajamas.

The list had competition.

I've been marveling the last few days at how big Phoebe has gotten. She's toddling all over the place, taking several brave, wobbly steps at a time. She prefers to feed herself and is quite good at yelling at me when her pile of black beans and Cheerios needs replenishing.

Tonight she fell asleep while she nursed and instead of hopping up as soon as she was done, I sat. I held her. I felt her warm small-yet-not-so-small body breathe in and out. I tried to memorize the way it felt to hold her.

I did not finish my list.

Punctual

I've been feeling good about getting Peter to and from school on-time. I have such trouble being anywhere at a specific time, so this is quite the accomplishment for me.

Today was Peter's first Monday at school.

Monday has a different schedule.

School starts a full twenty-five minutes earlier than it does on the other days and it ends fifty minutes earlier. I thought it was forty-five, but I discovered my mistake when I was five minutes late to get Peter after school today.

At least he started the day on-time.

Maybe I'll Get a Pedometer

I looked up the distance between our house and Peter's school, then figured how often I walk it. I've been walking 1.6 miles everyday. Now that may not sound like much to some people, but I think it's a healthy number.

So even though I'm completely exhausted from the last week, at least I've gotten some exercise.

And that is my happy thought for the night.

The International Sport

Cooper had his first day of soccer yesterday. I wasn't sure if he'd be able to participate with his hand all bandaged up, but he was fine. And considering that he spent most of the hour of practice/play either standing and watching the ball or running on the opposite side of the field from all the other kids, he wasn't in much danger anyway.

See that group of kids that he's running away from? Yeah, that's his team. But he looks like he's having fun, no?

Friends Like Me

September's issue of The Friend magazine arrived last week. The boys and I usually open it as soon as we bring it home from the mailbox. We look at the pictures and discuss the topics contained in each issue. But we didn't do that this time. We got the mail close to dinner and so the magazine was set aside.

On Monday Bryan and I decided that Family Home Evening should be about the value of education. He asked if I would put together a five-minute lesson on the topic. I grabbed The Friend and opened to the first article. It was by President Uchdorf and was about the importance of learning. Perfect.

Then I decided to look through the rest of the magazine. When I got to page eighteen I let out a little gasp. The article was titled Accepting Allergies and was a short bio on two sisters who have food allergies.

I cried.

Seriously.

I wasn't sobbing or anything, but my eyes did well-up and I had some trouble talking. I was so touched that there would be an article in this children's magazine about something that effects our family everyday.

I love The Friend.

Take a Hike

On Labor Day we did a few things we'd never done before. First we hiked the Y. For those of you not familiar with Provo, there is a giant cement Y on the mountain above BYU. You can read about it here.

I'm shocked that we made it all the way to the top. I think this is the first time we've ever taken the kids hiking. About a quarter of the way up Cooper saw a family coming down and said, "I wish I was that family."

Resting on the way up.

The view halfway up.

Near the top we had a side view of the Y. It gave the boys the push they needed to make it all the way up.

Peter and Cooper, climbing a mountain.

Bryan and the view from the top.

Sitting on the Y!

I'm even more surprised we made it down the mountain. The trail was pretty steep in a few areas. I had Phoebe in the Bjorn so I focused on walking slowly and deliberately.

On the way back down.

I guess riding up a mountain is as tiring as walking up a mountain.

When we got to the bottom we agreed that I would stay at the base of the trail with the kids and Bryan would get the car. The boys discovered lots of awesome rocks to play with. Both boys started throwing the rocks and it occurred to me that there might be snakes in among the stones, so I began the task of gathering the boys and told them to put down the rocks.

The next part is a little fuzzy. As I took hold of Peter's hand he said, "Look what Cooper found." I was leaning in to look when Peter threw a rock at Cooper. Now, I saw the rock hit the back of Cooper's hand, but at the same moment I noticed Cooper was bleeding.

I looked closer and saw that Cooper had a nasty (and deep) cut on the tip of his index finger. Big drops of blood were splashing onto the rocks. I don't know if the cut happened when Peter threw the rock, or if the thing that Cooper had found and Peter had just pointed out had sliced his hand open.

I had packed a first aid kit, but it was in the diaper bag which Bryan had taken to the car. I called him, said Cooper was bleeding, and did my best to hold Cooper's finger in the air.

We made a visit to the local Urgent Care. Cooper left with two stitches in his left index finger, a totally awesome neon green dinosaur bandage, and instructions from the doctor to go home and eat ice cream.

Cooper, showing me his interim bandage that the triage nurse put on him. His post-stitches bandage covers the same amount of his hand.

He's doing well and has been in good spirits, but he does keep asking when his hand will get better.

What did you do for Labor Day?

Reality Check

Peter was telling Bryan a story about Franklin. I'm guessing that Peter had been going on about Franklin for some time when the following conversation took place.

Bryan: Peter, you know Franklin's not real, right?

Peter: Don't tell Franklin that. He'd be sad.

One Week

We have now completed our first week of grad school/kindergarten/joy school. Honestly, I can't believe it's only been one week. I feel like we've packed so much in that it must have been longer than five days.

Bryan's first week went well. He commented to Peter that I was physically tired (from chasing children thirteen hours everyday), but that he was mentally tired.

Since the rough first day, Peter's school experience has improved. He's talked more about what has happened during his three hours away from us and giddily announced that he had homework when I picked him up yesterday. He has gotten in trouble at least once each day, which isn't great. Most of the disciplining has come about because he won't stop talking. Yeah, we have that problem at home too.

On a happier note, he brought home a list of skills that he was supposed to master during the month of September. I tested him on all of them this morning, signed the card, and sent it back to school. I wonder if we could get the skill set for October a little early.

Cooper loves Joy School. I've heard him reciting the rules and playing games he learned this week. He likes to tell us that he goes to school just like Peter.

There are four kids, three three-year-old boys and one four-year-old girl. I taught for the first time on Thursday. It's funny, I was majorly stressed during the whole morning leading up to teaching (mostly because I wanted the house to be spotless so I was cleaning like a mad-woman), but when the kids got here I was much calmer. I love to teach and it's nice to have the opportunity to stretch those muscles every other Thursday afternoon.

We've walked Peter to and from school (except for Wednesday afternoon) everyday. I have the sunburn to prove it. My goal was to walk some of the orneriness out of Peter before school; I'm not sure how well it's working. I'm going to keep walking as long as the weather will allow.

On to week two!

Little Lady

It's blurry and kind of sweaty, but here is the photographic evidence of Phoebe's first ponytail. Or should it be called a pigtail because it's so little? Either way, I don't think we'll be repeating the look anytime soon. She was not at all happy about having to hold still while I put the elastic in her hair. She loves having her hair brushed, so maybe when she realizes the two actions are connected she'll be willing to try another ponytail.

Or she'll decide she hates the brush.